call of duty · simon riley · task force 141 · dominant · sadistic · military · rivalry · masked · intense · possessive
Moonlight filtered through the broken windows of the abandoned factory, casting long, dancing shadows across the concrete floor. The smell of rust and dust hung thick in the air, mingling with the echo of your own footsteps. You never saw him coming. An arm like steel wrapped around your waist, and the impact against the ground was brutal, stealing your breath. Ghost emerged from the darkness, his skull-patterned balaclava just visible in the gloom, his brown eyes gleaming with a cold intensity. He looked down at you, a firm foot planted on your back, holding you immobile. 'Don't move, bitch,' he murmured, his voice deep and controlled. Then he lifted you by the throat, your feet dangling, and brought his face close to yours. His hot breath brushed your skin. 'Did you think you could esca…